


i'll hang in there, just for you

by FragileKids



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Friends to Lovers, M/M, akaashi with swords!!, well for kuroken at least
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-23
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-14 06:09:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29662929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FragileKids/pseuds/FragileKids
Summary: “One of them got me when I wasn’t looking. Not one of these,” he nodded towards the bodies, “Earlier. It was – one of the more lucid types.” Akaashi nodded in acknowledgement. Occasionally, you got an adult that was smart enough to know how to injure, to slow their prey down. They were the worst. “Hey – what’s your name? I’m Bokuto Koutarou,” the man said easily. Akaashi looked up at him in surprise.Akaashi stared at him briefly, words not coming to his head. The man – Bokuto – had big, owl-like gold eyes, and black hair with white tips, originally styled into what looked sort of like horns, but most of it was fallen by now. He had angular, prominent eyebrows, high cheekbones and full lips that were turned up in an easy smile, despite how much pain he must have been in.He was – very attractive.-or: people over 20 have turned into flesh eating monsters with only a few exceptions, and akaashi and bokuto will fall in love whichever universe they're in.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou, Kozume Kenma/Kuroo Tetsurou
Comments: 7
Kudos: 14





	1. akaashi

**Author's Note:**

> wow here we go  
> this fic is actually all written out already which is really out of character for me, so you dont have to worry about it not being incomplete  
> also this is a zombie au so be aware of icky stuff, its not rlly that graphic but still!!  
> that being said it is quite light hearted so  
> anyway thank u sm for clicking on this and giving it a try!!

“Fuck,” he cursed, the sound muttered yet still loud in the empty atmosphere around him.

He desperately scanned his surroundings from his position behind the dumpster. He didn’t dare move and miss the others coming back to the agreed spot they were meeting back at, but he didn’t want to stay and become a target for a host of – of zombies. Adults. Morphers, _whatever_. He’d gone through so many names for them and so many arguments for what the proper term was – the news initially had called them turned, or tainted, but they were so much of an understatement that no one had brought themselves to use them. And now that all that was left were teenagers and kids, the names got more ludicrous the more Akaashi moved around.

“Kodzuken.” He hissed, frustration leaking through his voice as he willed the teen into existence. Realistically, he knew that the volume he was speaking at wasn’t going past maybe 10 feet ahead of him, but he had to try. He only hoped that the other deputy had at least managed to find the two newbies they had taken with them today – 13 years old, allowed out after a lot of pleading with the captains (“but we survived on our own for _weeks_ -“ “just because you _can_ , doesn’t mean you _should_ -“) – and strictly told to _stay together_.

Sighing, he reluctantly got up from the rendezvous point, scanning the area once more before climbing over the fence next him, muscles shaking slightly as he lowered himself down the other side. He would have to try and make it back to the car – alone – and get back to the hotel, even if he would be cutting off easy access for the others.

It was the protocol – if you somehow got separated from your group while outside (though that wasn’t supposed to happen except in extreme circumstances, but Kodzuken could be cocky when he wanted to, and hated social interaction. Sure, he wasn’t stupid – the group was only meant to be split for half an hour, cutting the run down a third – but the fact that he was one of the most competent runners excused him to get lazy, an opportunity he took eagerly) you were to go back to the hotel, even if that meant temporarily stranding the others. They had given the only radio to Kato and Sasaki, so at least they could be picked up if necessary.

He started walking along the street, filled with abandoned cars and evidence of cans and cigarettes from when teenagers still roamed the cities.

They didn’t, anymore. When it had all started, when the disease had reached Japan and seemingly over night the adults had changed, looters and gangs rose before it became clear it was impossible to live in an area so densely populated with adults. Sure, they came to get supplies for their respective camps, but no one would be stupid enough to settle their base in a city.

The Hotel was in the suburbs – sufficiently far away from Tokyo, to Akaashi’s relief. Making it through Tokyo was something he never wanted to do again, and if there was one thing worse than chopping through crazed monsters trying to tear you apart, it was chopping through crazed monsters that once was your teacher, shopkeeper, family member.

As he turned the corner and tried to navigate himself with the maps he had memorised, his ears sharpened as a sound could be heard near him.

A shout. For help? Was it one of the kids, or Kodzuken?

He removed the dual swords from their sheath on his back and started running in the direction he heard the noise from. He tried to keep an eye out for any adults that might be roaming, but it seemed pretty clear.

There was another shout. Akaashi still couldn’t quite make out the nature of it, but it was definitely male – so not Sasaki and probably too deep to be Kodzuken – and more desperate then the last. He kept running until he reached an alley, and stopping to strain his ears to listen out for more noise.

There was a faint sound of panting and – slicing? Down the alley, so he took off in that direction.

“Kato?” he called out cautiously when he reached the end.

“Hey!” an unfamiliar answered him. Turning the corner, he saw bodies – three adults on the floor, recently cut down – and two walking towards the boy in the corner who presumable had been fighting them off. He was holding a hand to his right side, while brandishing a knife to ward the approaching adults off.

Making a quick decision, Akaashi stepped in between the discarded bodies and rose his swords. Standing just behind the walking adults, he caught a whiff of that familiar stench that came with the creatures – rotten eggs, fruit left out in the sun too long – and swung his swords down on one, and then the other. It was harder than usual – he had been doing a lot of running today, and his thrusts were less powerful than they normally were – but it did the job. When he was satisfied that they weren’t going to come back up (you could never be too cautious about these things), he turned to the boy he had saved, who looking at him with something like awe in his eyes.

“Woah, that was like, really cool! Do you have _two_ swords!? Are you like, ambidextrous or something?” the boy rambled excitedly. Well, boy might be a false assessment - he was standing up a bit straighter than he had been, and Akaashi realised he had to be over six feet – taller than Akaashi himself, which wasn’t that common – and was built more like an adult than a teenager.

“Um, yes.” He answered, after he realised that he had been staring for what was probably too long. He liked to evaluate the people when he first met them – it meant that he could be more prepared for any nasty surprises that came down the line.

“I got most of them, as you can see, and I’m usually really good at fending them off, but those two came out of nowhere and I shouted out – I guess you heard me, huh,” the man trailed off, looking embarrassed that he’d been heard crying out when about to be attacked.

“I thought it was my friend.” He paused and then added, “it is very impressive that you managed to fight these off by yourself,” he gestured to the bodies that had fallen before he got here. He wasn’t quite sure why he wanted to reassure the boisterous man, but he felt a bit better when he perked up at Akaashi’s words anyway.

“You really think so?” the man eagerly walked forward, before falting slightly, grimacing as he lent on his left side slightly. “Shit, that hurts.”

The man was more injured then Akaashi initially thought. He might not be able to make it back to wherever he came from.

“What happened?” he stepped closer, slowly, in case the man would lash out, though he didn’t think he would. Looking at the wound, it was less clean than he assumed, looking like a feral dog had torn into him. Akaashi knew that wasn’t the case.

“One of them got me when I wasn’t looking. Not one of these,” he nodded towards the bodies, “Earlier. It was – one of the more lucid types.” Akaashi nodded in acknowledgement. Most of the adults were solely motivated by the need to eat and consume humans, unable to think or communicate, but occasionally, you got one that was smart enough to know how to injure, to slow their prey down. They were the worst. “Hey – what’s your name? I’m Bokuto Koutarou,” the man said easily. Akaashi looked up at him in surprise. Giving your name to strangers wasn’t exactly uncommon, these days, but trust was hard to come by and sometimes all you had was your name, and the anonymity that came with people not knowing it.

Akaashi stared at him briefly, words not coming to his head. The man – Bokuto – had big, owl-like gold eyes, and black hair with white tips, originally styled into what looked sort of like horns, but most of it was fallen by now. He had angular, prominent eyebrows, high cheekbones and full lips that were turned up in an easy smile, despite how much pain he must have been in.

He was – very attractive.

Bokuto was looking at him expectantly, and Akaashi realised he was probably staring for too long _again_ , but this time for a very different reason. He quickly looked away from the man’s face and back to his wound, which wasn’t getting any better.

“Akaashi,” he finally answered. He sheathed his swords, wincing slightly as he realised they would still be dirty but unable to clean them on anything in the immediate vicinity. “Are you out here alone, Bokuto-san?” he questioned, voice taking its usual impenetrable tone.

“Nice to meet you, Akaashi! And – no, my buddy is around somewhere,” he chuckled sheepishly, and Akaashi tried not to find the action endearing. “We keep in contact with walkies, but I lost mine.”

“Ah. Yes, I –”

A shout. Two muffled gunshots.

“Shit,” Akaashi curses, and looks to Bokuto who was similarly alarmed. “Your friend got a gun?”

Guns were hard to come by. Japan had only recently started to import them on mass, everyone scrambling to get some when the disease was first being reported on the other side of the world, far away enough to not affect them yet but still prominent enough to get people panicked. They were now used with caution, the rarity mixed in with the fact they were typically loud enough to get the attention of every adult in a half mile radius meaning they weren’t very common.

Bokuto winces. “Yes, he has, but I don’t think that was him. His gun usually makes more of a POW!” he imitates a gun sound. Akaashi nodded once.

“That means we have to move.”

Bokuto nodded in agreement and gave a small smile. “Well, it was nice meeting you, Akaashi!” He turned around before walking in the opposite direction. Akaashi watched him go, apprehensive, before Bokuto started to stumble.

“Bokuto-san,” he uttered as he reached to steady Bokuto’s arm.

“Fuck,” Bokuto mumbled to himself. Akaashi held onto his arm and looked up to his face, noticing it had become considerably paler, the gold of his eyes dimmed somewhat. When he noticed Akaashi assessing him, he tried to stand up straight again, which in turn caused him to cry out a little in pain.

“Come on,” Akaashi bit his lip as he supported the man, casting a quick glance over his shoulder for any assailants. They started to walk forward together. “I’ll take you back to my car and we’ll decide what to do from there, okay? It’s parked near the park with the big pond in the middle.”

“There’s a store across the street, at the end of this alley,” Bokuto offered. He clearly knew the city better than Akaashi did. “We can go through there and out the other end, for cover.”

Akaashi nodded, and they made their way in the down the alley.

Having a (from the looks of things) highly athletic, six-foot teenager leaning on you while trying to get away from the onslaught of attackers no doubt around the corner was difficult, but it wasn’t the first time he’d been in a situation similar to this. They were both quiet as they walked, Akaashi slightly out of breath, and Bokuto making small painful noises which led him to assume he was focusing his strength on not collapsing. When Akaashi looked down, he could see the red stain becoming bigger, marking his shirt as well as Bokuto’s. They would have to hurry.

They reached the street. Bokuto pointed out the store they were headed towards.

They came to a stop.

Infront of the store there were two adults, appearing from nowhere – or maybe they had been there the whole time and Akaashi had been distracted by keeping Bokuto upright. Bokuto took a sharp breath and moved his hand towards his knife.

“Don’t,” Akaashi instructed. “I can take them.” His hand reached over his shoulder for a sword.

Bokuto looked mildly affronted and opened his mouth to object, before Akaashi cut him off.

“You’re hurt,” he insisted, voice stern. Not waiting for a response, he faced the adults in their path and started walking as quietly as he could up to them.

He stopped just before he reached them and waited for them to notice his presence. Sure enough, they started walking towards their new prey.

He finished them off quickly.

He went back to collect Bokuto, who thanked him quietly, pride probably a little stung. Bokuto seemed like the type who was used to being the strongest fighter in a group (he certainly looked like one) and being injured meant being unable to defend yourself as well as others. It was never a nice position to be in.

They made it into the store with no more trouble. It was empty, as to be expected, and they moved slowly down the darkened aisles, picking the best route between empty cartons and smashed glass.

“Akaashi,” Bokuto mumbled, stopping them to rest against the shelves, “I need – I need to sit down.”

Shit, Akaashi thought, glancing at their destination, the doorway on the other side of the shop. Out the window he could vaguely see the green of the trees and grass that contrasted with the rest of the mostly grey city, marking the park where his car was. He then looked at Bokuto, who had slid down the shelf to rest on the floor, sweat falling down his forehead and hands bloody from clutching his side. He made his decision.

Taking his swords and jacket off, he tentatively reaches forward to lift up Bokuto’s shirt. When there are no movements to stop him, he peeled the fabric away from the wound, eyes furrowing when he hears a hiss of pain when it gets caught slightly.

It wasn’t a pretty sight.

“Fuck,” Bokuto chuckled weakly. “That doesn’t look so good.”

“It’s fine,” Akaashi attempted to reassure, deciding that using his jacket to put pressure on the wound to stop the bleeding would be the best course of action. They fell into silence for a few moments.

“Akaaashi.”

“Bokuto-san?”

“What’s your favourite animal?”

Akaashi looked up abruptly at the odd question. Bokuto was staring at him intensely, eyes serious. He furrowed his brows.

“What?”

“Mines a snow leopard!”

“Oh. It’s not…”

“What?”

Akaashi gestured to the man’s hair, which had by this point mostly deflated. “An owl?”

“Nah, I like snow-leopards better. Did you know they’re actually more related to tigers than leopards?”

Akaashi felt his lips upturn slightly at the enthusiasm Bokuto was exuding, as he rambled on some more about the animal. The unfettered optimism Bokuto seemed to possess was hard to come by these days, and Akaashi never had much to begin with, always expecting the worst was about to happen. Usually, he found people who chattered too much slightly annoying, but with Bokuto it was oddly endearing.

“SO, what’s yours?” Bokuto asked again, when he said all he wanted to on snow-leopards.

Akaashi took a few moments, before, “Penguins.” He answered firmly.

There was a pause. “Penguins?” Bokuto questioned, slightly disbelieving.

“Yes.” Another pause. “Is there something wrong?”

“No!” Bokuto exclaimed. “I just – wasn’t expecting that. Why penguins? They don’t seem very… Akaashi like.”

“They can swim at speeds over 10 miles per hour, and they can dive down over 800 feet,” Akaashi informed. “And you don’t know me.”

“Right!” Bokuto said with a tone that implied he would like to get to know him, and Akaashi wasn’t so sure why he wasn’t as against that as he should have been. They would likely never see each other again, if Bokuto even –

No. He wouldn’t think like that. Not yet.

“I would like to, though,” Bokuto finished, sounding hopeful.

“Um,” this really wasn’t the time for a get-to-know-you exercise. They had more pressing issues, mainly the hole on Bokuto’s side.

Then again, Bokuto was looking paler and paler by the minute, and Akaashi had little to no medical knowledge, but he knew the worst thing was when they started to fall _asleep_ –

“My favourite colour is purple.”

-

They talked for a while.

He really didn’t want to spend more time than they could holed up in this small store, but Bokuto was somehow looking livelier by the minute, thriving off the conversation (which was currently about what their favourite foods where).

And Bokuto was just – interesting, to talk to. He had an energy that was – addicting, almost.

“Do you think you can stand up now?” he asked cautiously when there was a lull in the conversation, wary of the earlier gun shots and how there had been enough time passed for the adults to be arriving in mass.

“I…” Bokuto trailed off, and moved to try and stand up. Akaashi instinctively reached to help him, before the injured teen let out a shout and dropped to the ground again.

“That would be a no, then,” he commented.

“Yeah, I – I’m sorry,” gold eyes were covered momentarily in either pain or frustration. “You don’t have to stay. I’m sure Kuroo will find me, at some point, or –”

“I’m not going to leave you,” Akaashi said firmly. He wasn’t sure why, but that didn’t matter. He trusted his gut, and his gut was telling him to help Bokuto, to get him to safety, even if that was an uncharacteristically reckless move. “If I can get to the car, and drive it nearer to here, then it’ll be easier for you reach it. I can take you back to where I’m staying, there’s people who can help you there.”

Barely, honestly. The closest thing they had to a doctor was a 20-year-old med student who tried her best to take care of everyone who got hurt, and although she had a impeccable track record, she insisted every time that she was not qualified for more serious problems than a few cuts and broken limbs.

Akaashi wasn’t sure if Bokuto counted as a serious problem, but he did know that she was probably his only chance.

“Akaashi,” Bokuto whispered, voice filled with gratitude he didn’t deserve, name still pronounced slightly wrong.

“Keep pressure on that wound and stay here.” He stood up and looked out of the door. It was slightly blurry, but he couldn’t see any movement, which was a good sign. “I’ll come back to help you walk.”

“Thank you,” he said in a quiet but sincere voice. Akaashi nodded and started to walk in the direction of the door.

-

It was eerily quiet outside.

Typically, wherever you went in a city there was at least a few adults walking around in your vicinity, and you had to be on look out the entire time, or else you got caught off guard, which never went well.

But Akaashi didn’t want to question it too much, lest he tempt fate. He made his way easily to the park, and followed the fence to find where he had parked the SUV they had been given to go on the run with. Luckily it was still there – at the back of his mind he had been aware of the chance that one of the others had driven it back already. Of course, if this did happen, it wouldn’t be too much of a problem, as how to hotwire a car had been a lesson everyone had to learn soon enough (along with figuring out how to _drive_ the thing, of course) but this one was big and comfortable, and had emergency supplies.

He unlocked the door and slid in, dumping his swords on the passenger seat, and started the engine.

Driving nowadays was usually a hassle, especially in more populated spaces, but he had done it enough to know how to manoeuvre through the chaotic state of the roads.

-

“Shit,” he fumbled with the door handle as he stopped the car in the middle of the street.

Bokuto had gotten himself out of the shop, somehow.

There were also adults outside the shop.

All the ones that had been missing, it seemed, had gathered together to form one big swarming mass, heading in clumps towards where Bokuto was leaning precariously, a look of mild terror on his face but holding his knife up defiantly anyway.

He grabbed his swords, and ran.

“Bokuto-san,” he breathed, when he reached him. “We need to move –”

“Akaashi!” Bokuto exclaimed in warning.

“AGH!” he let out a noise in surprise as he swung his sword to where the figure he could see at the corner of his eye was standing.

How had he not seen it?

He turned around, back to the approaching attackers, to see another group of them, on their other side.

“Fuck.”

Why had he gotten out of the car. He could have just driven into them and picked Bokuto up then.

But no. Now he was stood here, with an injured guy, with only his swords, and nearing 50 adults about to attack them.

“Akaashi,” Bokuto said again, “You should run –”

“No!” he replied sharply, terror sinking in, but not willing to run just yet. Casting a quick glance to his side, he couldn’t see any route that would guarantee his safety, and the time it would take to get Bokuto out was long gone.

“Gah!” Bokuto yelled, in exertion, in pain, as he struck a knife into one of the adults.

“Bokuto, you can’t –” he protested, cutting into another adult.

“If you won’t go, I’m going to at least help,” Bokuto insisted, determined as he weakly thrust his knife some more.

There won’t be anyone left to save, no point to any of this, if you waste your strength, Akaashi didn’t say. He couldn’t. He had to focus on the task at hand, and put any thoughts of Bokuto out of his head. He didn’t want to die here, not yet, so he would fight.

He would fight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bokuto: has an injury making him semi delusional and pale and sweaty  
> akaashi: wow. so attractive. im literally going to risk my entire life for him-
> 
> ahh u made it to the end!! kudos + comments would be greatly appreciated but no pressure!!  
> if there are any mistakes pls lmk because i am literally awful at finding them in my own work


	2. kuroo & bokuto

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “How long is it?” He urged the guy – Akaashi, he said? – who was driving the car.   
> “Ten more minutes,” came the reply, before they slipped back into the silence that had gone on before Koutarou briefly woke up. 
> 
> Kuroo usually liked to talk to strangers, to see how they worked and what their intentions were, especially when he was nervous, but this time it was different. Koutarou was – was not looking good. He didn’t want to think the worst – he couldn’t, not after all they’d been through, he couldn’t lose another – but the anxiety he was feeling right now was something he hadn’t felt in a long time. 
> 
> And he was pretty sure he could trust this guy, at least when it came to his best friend.

“Ahh… Kuroo…”

“I’m here, bro.”

“It hurts…”

“I know, it’s okay. Just a few more minutes, yeah?”

“Mm…” He slurred, before slipping back into unconsciousness.

Kuroo sighed, softly brushing the damp black and white strands from Koutarou’s forehead.

“How long is it?” He urged the guy – Akaashi, he said? – who was driving the car.

“Ten more minutes,” came the reply, before they slipped back into the silence that had gone on before Koutarou briefly woke up.

Kuroo usually liked to talk to strangers, to see how they worked and what their intentions were, especially when he was nervous, but this time it was different. Koutarou was – was not looking good. He didn’t want to think the worst – he couldn’t, not after all they’d been through, he couldn’t lose _another_ – but the anxiety he was feeling right now was something he hadn’t felt in a long time.

And he was pretty sure he could trust this guy, at least when it came to his best friend.

(When he saw the massive group of zombies crowded in the street he was passing by looking for Koutarou, his first thought was, _oh fuck, I need to leave right now._

That was before he looked closer and saw the guy in the middle of the cluster, wielding two swords just a little too erratically to be graceful, chopping down one after another, kicking the bodies away when he was done with them.

And that’s when he saw the guy on the floor next to him, who the first guy was obviously trying their hardest to protect.

He didn’t think it was Koutarou. There was no reason to – they didn’t come with anyone else, and he didn’t know this guy, and Koutarou was one of their best fighters, extremely hard to take down.

But he knew the determined expression on the guy’s face. When you didn’t have many people, those you did have, or even just people who weren’t trying to actively kill or injure you, you protected. And sometimes that meant throwing everything you had at the enemy, letting out all the pain, anguish, and anger you had at the world you had been thrust into.

So instead of running away, he got his gun, and ran towards the middle of the group the best he could and shot down all the zombies he could see.)

Another cry escaped the boy on his lap, shaking him out of his thoughts.

“Shh, it’s okay, you’re going to be fine,” he let out reassurances, while trying not to look at the side of Koutarou’s body, a reminder of the promise he’s making that he can’t be sure of. He wasn’t usually the type of guy who comforted people – that was more Suga’s job, or Koutarou his self’s– but this was his best friend, he couldn’t give up on him. Fail him.

“Hm…Akaash… okay?”

Kuroo chuckled. “Yeah, man, Akaashi’s fine,” he looked to the man in question, hand tight around the wheel. His face was still splattered with blood as it had been when he was in the middle of that crowd, and his body was filled with tension still, as though the adrenaline hadn’t quite worn of. “He put up quite a fight for you, back there. Impressive.”

He watched as Akaashi winced, slightly. Odd.

“Wow. For me?” Golden eyes were on him, now, widened in wonder yet still unfocused. Kuroo smirked down at him.

“All for you, Bo,” he confirmed, which was slightly untrue, considering he had also probably been fighting for himself out there, but Bokuto deserved to have a handsome stranger fight for him.

“We’re here,” said stranger interrupted. Kuroo blinked and looked out the window.

The hotel wasn’t that impressive really, but the fact that it had greenery growing decoratively around it, no windows that he could see smashed in, what looked to be a tennis court around the side and a working gate that let them in, was. He hoped this was a good sign for Koutarou, as at least it looked like they actually had their shit together here.

It was a hell of a lot better than sleeping in a gym on futons, that was for sure.

They parked. Akaashi opened his door, walking around to open Kuroo’s, since he currently had a heavy Koutarou on him.

“Was happening?”

“You’re going to get you help, Bo.”

“Akaashi?” a man walked out of the front door to the building, a serious look in his face. “Where is Kodzu – Shit! Who are these?” he rushed to help them as Kuroo tumbled out of the car, the three of them struggling to help Koutarou to his feet. The man waved a hand towards the entrance, and two more people came outside, together they practically lifted him into the building.

“It’s his side, he needs help, it’s few hours old, his name is Bokuto –”

“Akaashi, calm down, it’s okay, we’ve got him,” the first man cut off Akaashi’s frantic explanation. Kuroo moved to follow Bokuto to wherever they were taking him down the corridor, before the man turned to him.

“Who are you, anyway? What are you doing here?”

Kuroo was about to reply rather impolitely about how he should really be allowed to follow his friend and avoid this conversation when he didn’t even ask to be here, thank you, when Akaashi interjected.

“It’s fine, Konoha-san, he saved me, he’s his friend.” Akaashi sighed, dragging his hand over his face and through his hair, exhaustion clear on his face.

“Right,” the guy gave Kuroo one last look, before turning to Akaashi again. Kuroo felt like he had been dismissed, but didn’t know where he should go – there was still people guarding the corridor where Koutarou had been taken down, and he didn’t know which way they went.

“and what happened, exactly? Who was –” he gestured down the corridor, “– _that,_ and why do you do look like you’ve been dragged through hell, and where’s Kodzuken?”

“That’s Bokuto Koutarou, I met him in the city, was injured and I offered to take him back,” Akaashi informed, his voice slightly strained. “There was – a lot – of adults, and I was fighting them off before Kuroo here got the rest of them. And I lost the others before I met either of them, so I don’t know where they might be,” Akaashi finished.

“As you can see, I saved him, so please can I now go see my friend? As he has just been taken into a strange hotel by strangers?” Kuroo decided to interrupt with.

The man frowned. “It sounds like you only had to save him because he was saving your friend to begin with,” he pointed out, which was _technically_ true, but Kuroo really didn’t have the patience for semantics right now. “and those strangers are taking him to our doctor, so maybe you could stand to be a little more grateful.”

“I’ll be _grateful_ when I can see that my best friend isn’t about to die at the hands of some _amateur_ teenager who doesn’t know what she’s doing,” Kuroo sneered, frustrated at these people who were yes, probably being nice, but he _couldn’t_ trust anyone, not who he didn’t already know the intentions of. “Unless you have an _adult_ here?” the two of them flinched. Good.

The man put his fingers to his temples in irritation. “Fine. Yamamoto, take him to Nakamura and Shimizu. Keiji, Kato and Sasaki radioed in about an hour ago, we’ve sent people to come pick them up. Hopefully Kodzuken will find his way back here, or they’ll find him.”

Kuroo stopped listening as a man with a mohawk, Yamamoto he assumed, walked up to him. Without talking, he took him through the second door and down the corridor, leaving the others behind.

-

“Hey.”

Kuroo looked at the sound from where he was sitting in a chair next to the bed they had put Koutarou in. He hadn’t been allowed in to see him for a while, instead sitting with a very pretty girl named Kiyoko who he would have usually flirted with (he was glad he didn’t because she didn’t seem like the type to appreciate that kind of thing, and she was very comforting to talk to) but instead they talked a bit about the Hotel and how they ended up staying there.

It turns out there was over 50 people currently living at the Hotel, but it had over 300 rooms. It also had a dining room, a tennis court, and an indoor gym.

And the best part: it had a generator, that they turned on at night.

Kuroo had gone without electricity for about four months now, so the thought of having a hot shower or an electric oven was almost enough for him to be begging to stay the night.

And, according to Koutarou’s condition, they would have to.

Nakamura, the twenty-year-old med student-turned-doctor was surprisingly efficient, and reportedly had done all the necessary work to make sure Koutarou would be up and healthy as soon as possible. She had neglected to tell Kuroo any of the specifics (which was probably a good thing, considering the lack of anything past general anaesthetic and painkillers on hand) but the wound that was in Koutarou’s side was now stitched up with a big bandage on.

Their zombies weren’t the zombies of western media, thank god. If you were bitted or scratched by one, the worst thing that could happen was infection, which could be deadly, but you wouldn’t be turned into one yourself. They just now had to hope they had gotten to the Hotel in time and that Koutarou would be back to his endearingly upbeat self in no time.

“Yes?” he drawled to the onlooker who was standing in the doorway. He was tall, probably as tall as Kuroo himself, with short blond hair and glasses. He was wearing a bored, borderline judgemental expression, and Kuroo reminded himself that he was not going to be intimidating by a 15-year-old who was clearing trying their best to intimidate, while trying not to appear like they were trying to intimidate. It was a state he was familiar with, from personal experience.

“Akaashi-san says you should come into the meeting room.” The boy says blandly. He looks at the bed. “What’s wrong with him?”

“Nothing,” Kuroo stands up, glancing at Koutarou and thinking – no. Everything would be fine. He would wake up soon, and then they could spend the night in this cool hotel, and then they would go back to the others and back their gym and futons.

Shit, the others.

They would be worried, but they know Kuroo and Koutarou can fend for themselves. They would trust them to get back.

Right?

“Okay.” There was a pause. “Do you want to come now, then?”

Kuroo nodded and followed the boy out of the room, heading down the corridor.

As they walked through, Kuroo looked into an open room and saw a ginger kid that looked to be about 9 or 10. That was jarring; the youngest person in their camp was smaller Sawamura, who was around 12, and he hadn’t seen many kids younger than that in recent years.

Huh.

“Ts’ishima!” the girl came running out of the door at the sight of them. She rushed to them, looking up at the boy expectantly.

“Hello, Natsu-chan,” the boy said reluctantly, as if having to remind himself that he couldn’t sass a nine-year-old.

“Who are you?” she looked up at Kuroo curiously, brown eyes wide.

Before Kuroo could answer, there was another ginger kid running down the corridor.

“Natsu!” he called, swooping down to pick the girl up. “Sorry, Tsukishima!” he said quickly, and they left.

They carried on walking until they reached a room which initially looked to be identical to where Koutarou was staying, except instead of a bed and closet there was several chairs scattered round a table. He recognised several people there, now: there was Akaashi, Kiyoko, the guy that was talking to Akaashi when they first walked in (kon-something?) and the guy with the mohawk.

“I delivered him. Can I go now?” his escort asked, voice still in that bored tone.

“Tell Kodzuken we’re having a meeting!”

“Whatever.” He turned around and left, closing the door behind him. After watching him go, Kuroo turned to the council, or whatever this was, who were all watching him curiously.

“Kuroo-san,” Akaashi greeted.

“Akaashi,” Kuroo nodded back. “Bokuto has been asking after you.” This was not strictly true. Koutarou hadn’t properly woken u let, only for minutes at a time to let out a string of nearly incomprehensible Japanese, but –

To his delight, Akaashi went slightly pink, for what ever reason. huh. He’d have to remember that.

“He did? Well, I was going to come visit him but –”

“Can we make this quick? I want to go to my room and –“ a new voice from the door cut him off, before stopping itself. It was soft, light, and filled Kuroo with so much visceral emotion he was struck with a sudden sense of deep nostalgia and longing.

Turning around, he saw –

No, it couldn’t be –

Hair longer than it used to be, different now his roots were showing than when Kuroo first dyed it, but it was definitely – 

“Kenma,” he breathed.

-

“He needs to rest for a few days, but after that he should be okay. Bit of a miracle, really, but…”

Bokuto opened his eyes slowly at the somewhat familiar voice giving information in low tones. His whole body hurt like a bitch, and the energy which usually rushed through him when he woke up in the morning had gone, leaving him to feel drained and exhausted.

It took a few moments for his eyes to focus, the light that was protruding from the lamp next to him bright. He didn’t recognise this place – it was clean and neat, and he was lying on a comfortable bed with white sheets tucked around him. He tried to move himself, to sit up, before his body protested and the pain in his side grew too much.

“Bokuto-san,” an alarmed voice called out, and two pairs of hands reached to push him back on the bed. He struggled momentarily, feeling like he’d been manhandled far too much in the past few days, before giving up when he realised there was no point.

Eyes focusing on the person in front of him, the events of – yesterday? – came flooding back to him. Going on a run, getting separated from Kuroo, the abnormally smart zombie that managed to injure him, and – _Akaashi._

“I am in heaven?” he slurred before his brain caught up to his mouth. Staring at the man in front of him, he noticed details he hadn’t when they were too busy trying not to get killed – he knew the boy was pretty, and despite being lean rather than stocky like Bokuto he was obviously athletic, given that he was able to wield two swords with a practice ease – but _wow_. His rescuer was staring at him in concern, eyes a piercing blue under impossibly long lashes. His hair – which Bokuto last remembered being flecked with blood – had obviously been washed recently, framing his face in dark curls which contrasted with his pale skin.

“…you’ve been out for quite a while, we’ve been worried…”

He managed to tune back into the conversation they were apparently having, and realised.

“I’m alive? We made it out?” He began to grin as his sleepiness faded away somewhat and he realised that this was real, they made it. He was dimly aware of another person in the room with them, but his attention was focused on the way his excitement seemed to reflect off of Akaashi’s face, serious features relaxing somewhat.

“Yes, Bokuto-san,” he affirmed, a smile playing at his lips. Bokuto’s eyes fell down his face to stare at the movement. “You’re currently at a hotel while you recover, where you can stay as long as you need.”

“A hotel?” Bokuto looked around the room he was in. Despite the slight medical smell, it had a basic layout, a wardrobe in the corridor, and the bed he was staying in had soft sheets that came with a quality stay. “That sure beats staying at the gym,” he muttered to himself.

“A gym?” Akaashi raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow.

Bokuto waved him off. They fell back into silence for a while, the pain in his side a dim reminder of what he went through as he looked at the slight scratch he hadn’t noticed at first along Akaashi’s cheekbone.

A cough came from the corner of the room, and his eyes quickly went up to the figure in the corner of the room. They were a girl of just above just average height, dressed all in black and hair scraped back into a high ponytail, thick glasses framing her eyes. A smirk was playing on her lips

Akaashi went slightly pink before quickly introducing her. “Right, sorry – Bokuto-san, this is Nakamura – she’s our doctor, and the one who stitched you up.”

“Not a doctor,” she corrected, stepping towards them. “But I did do my best to fix you up. I did my best to lessen the chances of infection, so I don’t think that will be a problem, but you will need to move very carefully once we get you moving again so that you don’t reopen any of your stitches. Also, I gave you a hell of a lot of my painkillers, so you owe me some replacements.” She spoke quickly but surely, voice commanding and confident.

“Wow, thanks for helping me!” Bokuto beamed at her, to which she faltered slightly at. “I’ll try and pay you back as soon as I can, I promise.” Nakamura looked slightly surprised at his declaration, and she turned to Akaashi. They seemed to have some kind of conversation which Bokuto wasn’t privy to.

“When do you think he’ll be able to get out of bed?” Akaashi asked out loud, which was helpful because Bokuto had been wondering that himself.

“Hopefully tomorrow we can give it a go, once he’s had a good night sleep,” the young doctor explained. “You might not get to walking straight away, but with the help of your friend I’m sure it’ll be –”

“Wait, my friend?” he interrupted.

Akaashi then explained how Kuroo had been the one to rescue them after he had tried his best to fight them off, and they had decided that as the hotel was closer to where they were than Karasuno was, it was the best bet for Bokuto’s health. Apparently Kuroo had been by his bed side since they arrived, but he was called to meet the people who were in charge here. There he had a reunion with one of the deputies and Akaashi’s friend, Kodzuken, except he was actually called –

“Kenma?” he gasped when Akaashi had revealed who had taken Kuroo away from being here when he woke up. His mind was whirling with the thought of Kuroo, who was so serious when they first met until he was talking about his childhood friend, which always made him light up as he would recount anecdotes. He remembered the way Kuroo had tensed and how his voice shook when he explained how when he went looking for him when everything had begun, there was no sign of him, only a house with two former parents, gun still in its cupboard and shelves full with cans.

He also remembered how one night when they all clung to each other as the sky opened and thunder raged, Kuroo admitted how he figured out he was in love with his best friend when he was out of his reach for the first time in ten years.

“That’s amazing! I – I can’t believe it. They found each other.” His eyes pricked with tears as he thought of the joy Kuroo must have been feeling right now.

“I was surprised, also,” Akaashi admitted. “Kodzuken – Kenma, had mentioned a person who had been close to a long time ago, but I think we all thought they were gone a long time ago.”

“I’m surprised Kodzu didn’t just spring into existence the minute this all begun, personally,” Nakamura chimed in.

“Nakamura-san,” Akaashi chided, still in a impossibly polite tone.

“What? It’s like he’s made for this kind of thing. And he’s not exactly one for social interaction.”

Bokuto couldn’t wait to reconcile the picture he had of a soft and shy boy obsessed with the games he played and the boy who was apparently made for fighting zombies, joint second in command.

Nakamura left after firmly telling Bokuto he wasn’t to move until she was there in the morning, sick bucket ready, and that he should take the painkillers that were resting on his bed side table at four hourly intervals at the least. Akaashi stayed after asking whether Bokuto would prefer to be alone, to which Bokuto had said he didn’t mind company in the least. It was nice talking to Akaashi – really nice – he wasn’t a ball of energy like Bokuto, nor the sly sharpness that was Kuroo, but he had a way of talking were Bokuto was hanging on his every word, desperate to hear more of whatever he had to say.

He also seemed to genuinely enjoy talking to Bokuto, which slightly surprised him. Despite being serious and seeming the type to be intolerant of Bokuto’s general ‘buffoonery’, as Kuroo lovingly refers to it as, he was patient and indulgent towards him, and every time Bokuto managed to illicit a smile (or one time a laugh, which was one of the most beautiful sounds he’d ever heard) he felt his chest burst with warmth.

Akaashi also explained a little more about where they were. A base with more than 50 people in was shocking, and the 12 people he had waiting for him to come back paled in comparison.

Eventually, Akaashi had to leave, and he asked whether he should find Kuroo for him to keep him company. Despite wanting to see his best friend after the day he had had, he knew the elation of seeing Kenma again would have far from worn of yet, so he declined with a smile.

“Goodnight, Akaashi-kun!” he called when Akaashi was walking out of the door, giving him his best grin. To his delight Akaashi blushed a little, and gave him one back.

“Goodnight, Bokuto-san. Sleep well,” was the reply that came back. With the door shut, his room was silent. Used to sharing his sleeping quarters with 10 other people, he unconsciously strained his ears to hear the faint sounds of his temporary home, high voices he was no longer used to calling out to each other from upstairs, laughter from rooms next to him. He fumbled to reach the pills left out for him, and swallowed them along with the water he had been given.

He hoped he could stay here for a while. Maybe they could convince Akaashi and Kenma and whoever else was in charge to let them get the rest of Karasuno and stay here.

With this thought, and firmly ignoring the pain in his side, he fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bokuto and akaashi: *staring at each other*  
> nakamura: um. well. anyways-  
> also akaashi stop blushing challenge


	3. kenma

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Kenma,” a voice called out to him, teasing in a way they would have hated a year ago, but now only bringing them relief. It wasn’t a dream. The person on the bed was really him. “I know you’re awake.”
> 
> They opened their eyes slowly, squinting at the sunlight peeking through their curtains. Their breath hitched slightly when their eyes focused. “Kuroo.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow chapter 3! this chapter is from kenma's pov who i headcanon as non-binary, if ur not cool w that pls dont read! 
> 
> hope u enjoy!

When Kenma wakes up, the emotions that swell up threaten to overwhelm them.

They had spent the majority of the last year in a state of forced apathy, the only thing mattering was survival, and even that wasn’t imperative. It was just something to do. Something to aim for.

They knew that Kuroo would want them to, and that was enough to keep them going, until they found the hotel, and people that depended on them.

Feeling the weight of the boy next to them, Kenma was for once endlessly grateful they made that choice.

Eyes still closed, the deliriousness of last night flooded back. After seeing that ridiculous hair and overgrown body and annoying, beautiful face, the tears that had been held back for so long finally fell, as they were swept up in an all-too-familiar embrace.

Suddenly everything they had been through felt worth it. Everyone they had lost, everything they had done to drag themselves to this hotel was worth it if they could just have this one moment of pure, unadulterated happiness that was feeling themselves pressed against _him_ , smelling his familiar scent they had always smelled no matter how much cologne he had put on.

“Kenma,” a voice called out to him, teasing in a way they would have hated a year ago, but now only bringing them relief. It wasn’t a dream. The person on the bed was really him. “I know you’re awake.”

They opened their eyes slowly, squinting at the sunlight peeking through their curtains. Their breath hitched slightly when their eyes focused. “Kuroo.”

“Nice to know you still drool in your sleep.” He smirked at them, eyes dancing.

Kenma shoved him. “Shut up, I know I don’t,” they tried to sound annoyed, but when they were shoved back they couldn’t hold back the smile that broke out on their face.

Kuroo’s eyes softened as soon as he saw it, which Kenma reluctantly allowed. Kuroo brought his hand up to Kenma’s face, cupping their cheek. Kenma shuddered and brought their foreheads together, eager to relish in the proximity.

“You’re here,” Kuroo’s voice croaked out, disbelieving. “You’re really here.”

They had talked last night, after escaping the others. About how what used to be Kenma’s mother had walked into their room while they were playing their latest video game, and tried to kill it’s former child. How Kenma had reacted with instincts they didn’t know they had and ran out of the house as soon as they could, no shoes or supplies. How the first thing they did was to go to Kuroo’s house, except when they entered it they saw a large body with messy dark hair on the floor, chest unmoving. How they ran out of that house as well and gotten out of the neighborhood as soon as they could.

Kenma couldn’t wrap their mind over how they had made a mistake. How that must have been Kuroo’s dad. They were so _sure_ – that Kuroo was dead, killed, and they couldn’t do anything about it.

But Kuroo hadn’t been dead. He had run to Kenma’s house, as well, only found it to be empty, and assumed the worst.

“I’m here,” they reassured. “I’m not – you can’t leave again, Kuro.”

“I won’t,” Kuroo promised. They broke apart. “I won’t, but I have people who need me.”

Kenma frowned. “Bokuto?” they had heard about the man who Akaashi had rescued, Kuroo’s friend who Nakamura had healed up.

“No, it’s the people who we’re staying with. When this all went down, one of them saved me, and I’ve stayed with them ever since.” Kenma watched as Kuroo’s expression became one they recognized – the sign of the captain he had once been, one who felt responsible for whatever happened to his team. Only this team was bigger, and one Kenma wasn’t apart of. “I can’t abandon them. And they’ll be worried about me and Bo.”

Kenma nodded. They understood, albeit slightly reluctantly, about what it was like to be responsible for people. “We can discuss about what to do when the Captains get back,” they offered, unwilling to break the euphoria they were experiencing with discussing what to do next.

Kuroo raised an eyebrow. “Captain _’s_? And you share deputy with Akaashi? Was one not enough?”

Kenma scowled when he mentioned their deputy position. It had amused Kuroo to no end last night when he found out Kenma was the 3rd/4th in command, when the friend he had known was allergic to all responsibility.

Truthfully, Kenma still wasn’t quite sure how they had ended up in that position, especially when they were only 17, which sure, was older than the majority of the hotel, but still was younger than quite a few. Unfortunately, their practical attitude on runs and towards the provisions of the hotel had become key to how it was run, and the fact that they rarely did anything other than smile had helped them form some kind of reputation of being able to control the young ones, even if they detested being put on babysitting duty.

“Shut up. It’s so one of us aren’t left alone. We only do runs in fours, and everyone has a pair. It’s some rule Oikawa came up with.”

“Huh.” Kuroo looked thoughtful. “That’s actually pretty smart.”

“Don’t say that to him.”

They spent about half an hour relaxing in each other’s presence, something they weren’t used to without Kenma being on some kind of game but wasn’t unwelcome. They both shared the stories they were willing about their time apart, and avoiding those which wasn’t welcome in the playful atmosphere they had created.

After a while, Kenma reluctantly offered that they should probably go get some breakfast, to which Kuroo eagerly agreed. He also said that he would like to see his friend, Bokuto, which Kenma nodded to and said they could after Nakamura allowed it. Walking down the corridor to the canteen, they got some curious looks from those who had not seen Kuroo last night, and some to Kenma as to why they were walking so close to this stranger. Kenma had forgotten how useful it was to have Kuroo’s giant frame to hide behind, even if it brought some unwanted attention.

After they had ate breakfast on a table away from any prying looks or questions, they headed towards the hospital room with Nakamura, who said that they would have to help Bokuto start to walk. Kuroo looked pleased with the knowledge that Bokuto would be okay to move around soon, even if he was disappointed he wasn’t by his bedside when he first woke up.

“Don’t worry,” Nakamura replied with a mischievous look in her eye when Kuroo expressed this, “I think he was more than happy with Akaashi-kun by his side.”

Indeed, when they opened the door, his partner was in deep conversation with a silver haired man with bright gold eyes, face slightly pale but voice obnoxiously loud.

“Kuroo!” He cried when they walked in.

“Hey, Bo!” Kuroo answered just as enthusiastically if not a little quieter, a broad grin on his face as he approached the bed on the opposite side to Akaashi, where they engaged in heated conversation. Kenma quickly pushed down the bout of jealousy that was threatening to build up at the man who Kuroo had obviously made such close friends with while Kenma was away. Instead, they turned to Akaashi was eating the rest of his breakfast he had taken to eat with Bokuto.

“Akaashi,” they said in greeting.

“Kodzuken,” the boy replied. “Or should I say Kozume?”

Kenma winced. After Kuroo had greeted them by their name last night they had reluctantly confirmed to the rest of the group that their actual name was Kozume Kenma. Of course, they had all known that Kodzuken wasn’t their actual name, but it was probably a revelation into their seemingly mysterious life.

“Kenma’s fine,” they muttered quietly.

After Nakamura had asked Bokuto how he was feeling, and Bokuto had confirmed he was feeling much better (though Kenma did not know how truthful that was), her and Kuroo helped him sit up out of bed and sit in the chair. After throwing up once and quickly put back into bed, they had managed to get Bokuto walking out of the room and down the corridors.

“This place is so cool!” Bokuto exclaimed excitedly after they had shown him the majority of the building. Kenma and Kuroo glanced at each other. Akaashi had a wistful expression on his face – it was odd, Kenma would have assumed that Bokuto’s intensity would have grated on him like Lev did theirs, but instead it seemed as the two had imprinted on each other.

-

Shimizu had come to let them know the previous night’s council meeting had been resumed – after Kenma had come in they had decided it wasn’t worth it – and the five of them diligently walked to the council meeting, Bokuto bouncing with nervous energy and Kuroo tensing in anticipation. When they arrived, Kenma noticed they were still missing some people.

“The captains aren’t back yet?” Nakamura inquired.

“Nope, but they radioed in a while ago to say they will be back this evening,” Konoha answered. Kenma frowned. This meant they wouldn’t get a straight answer this morning – even if all six of them agreed to something, the hotel wouldn’t accept it if Oikawa and Iwaizumi didn’t approve.

Nevertheless, the four of them who entered sat down on the sofa that had been left empty for them, Kenma sitting by Kuroo’s left side with Bokuto on his other. Tora turned to look at them accusingly.

“Nice to see you again, Kuroo. And you, _Kenma_.”

Kenma ducked behind their hair with a scowl. Honestly, it wasn’t like they didn’t know it wasn’t their real name. But this was Tora, and their mutual trust had been hard earned, ending with them getting given name privileges even if they wouldn’t really consider him their friend.

Akaashi looked at Kenma and they silently agreed it would be Akaashi who lead the meeting, as it often was they were left in charge, with Kenma chiming in giving their opinion. He stood at the front of the room, the idle chatter dying down to look at him.

“As most of you know, this is Bokuto and Kuroo, who I brought home last night. Bokuto has been tended to by Nakamura, who was cleared him to be able to left unsupervised –”

“So long as he comes takes regular painkillers and comes to see me to redo his stitches,” Nakamura reminded.

“Of course.”

“Excuse me, but why are we having a meeting in the first place? Are they on their own?” the quiet voice of Shimizu questioned.

It was common practice in the hotel to allow those on their own or with younger siblings to be allowed in when they could, with the approval of the captains. That was how Kenma found themselves here, after all.

“No, we have people in the Miyagi prefecture. There’s about twelve of us, most of us teenagers.” Kuroo cut in.

“Miyagi prefecture? That’s pretty far away.” Tora pointed out.

“That’s where Oikawa-san and Iwaizumi-san are from,” Konoha reminded.

“So if you already have people you belong to,” Shimizu continued, “Why are we having a meeting? Can’t you just go back?”

“Well, we were wondering,” Kuroo looks at Bokuto and they have a quick silent conversation. “We would like to bring them to stay here. We have strong fighters, and the youngest of us are 14 –”

“Bring them here?” Kenma cut in. Akaashi nodded.

“Me and Bokuto-san were talking, and we think that it would be a good idea.”

Chatter overlapped, and Kenma thought. Kuroo here, where he would be safe and with his new friends, would be ideal. There was just the issue of getting them from Miyagi to the hotel, and how the captains would react to the news.

After some more talk of what would the best idea be, Nakamura spoke for the first time with a question.

“How old are your people you want to bring?” the others nodded along.

“Let’s see,” Kuroo started, brows furrowing. “Saeko’s twenty, five of us are eighteen, two seventeen –”

“And there’s smaller Sawamura!” chimed in Bokuto.

“– who’s fourteen, and one fifteen. Oh, and then there’s the adults –”

It got quiet. Kenma stiffened.

“Adults?” Konoha questioned, voice hard.

“Well, not like _adults_ adults, obviously,” Kuroo said, glancing at Kenma when he couldn’t understand the shift in atmosphere. Adults that were sane and normal was rare, but not unheard of. There was no reason for them all to react the way they did.

And yet. “But there’s Take-chan and Ukai-sensei, who are around 30, I think…” he trailed off, looking at the faces around him.

“We’ll have to think about this more when Oikawa and Iwaizumi come back,” Konoha offered. He looked at Akaashi in concern, who was seemingly staring at nothing. “Right, Akaashi?”

The man in question shook himself out of whatever he had gotten into. “Of course, Konoha-san.”

“But, what?” Bokuto questioned as people started shuffling out of the room.

“Sorry, Kuro,” Kenma mumbled quietly. “But we won’t budge until the captains come back.”

Kuroo searched their face, seeing evidently confused at the ‘we’ and not ‘they’, but he must have sensed this was important to Kenma because he gave up pretty quickly, dropping it.

They waited until the four of them were the only ones left in the room, and they helped Bokuto who was still slightly unsteady out of the door. Kenma pulled on Akaashi’s jacket lightly when they were walking down the corridor behind the taller men, who turned to them instantly.

“If Oikawa and Iwaizumi don’t agree to let them come,” Kenma asked softly, “What will you say?”

Akaashi was quiet for a few moments. “I would do my best to persuade them, and if that didn’t work, appoint Kiyoko as my new deputy partner.”

Kenma nodded. They weren’t exactly friends, both of them far to closed off and quiet for that, but them and Akaashi had an understanding most of the time, and could read each other pretty well. If Oikawa doesn’t let Karasuno stay with them, and Kuroo decided to leave, Kenma would come with him.

-

The rest of the day was spent with the three of them, and Akaashi coming to find them every so often. It was kind of funny – Kenma thought he didn’t really know how to act around Bokuto, even though they obviously got on, and was a bit shy. The thought of Akaashi being shy was a strange one. He usually carried himself with a calm, quiet confidence that Kenma was always mildly envious of.

Bokuto was – very loud, albeit well meaning. Kuroo obviously adored him, but the beginnings of jealousy was cooling when they saw how they interacted – Kuroo was treating like the brother he never had, how he probably ought to treat Kenma, even thought they had never been like that.

Taking Kuroo around the hotel was something Kenma never thought they’d have the opportunity to do, and it was vaguely nerve-wracking, but their heart hurt at how well Kuroo seemed to fit in.

“Kenma-san!” Kenma groaned as they recognized the owner of the voice that called them. How had their name gotten around to everyone so quickly? They quickly looked around to find something to hide behind, dragging Kuroo along when they spotted a tree. It was getting dark, the bright sun in the sky fallen and covered with cloud, evening had come. Yet still Lev could see him. Was it the hair? They, not for the first time, wished they never dyed it before this all began. They had been on a walk around the small gardens that surrounded the hotel, walking in the companionable silence they were so used to.

Until it had been broken, that was.

“Oh?” Kuroo sounded amused when Kenma realized they weren’t hidden enough, and dragged them some more through some bushes. “Who’s this, that’s got you so worked up?”

“Don’t, Kuro,” they warned, not wanting to incite his tendency to put Kenma in any situation which irritated him. “Trust me. You don’t want Lev to latch onto you, too,” they found a suitable hiding spot, and sat down. Kuroo joined them.

“Lev?” he questioned. “Is that a foreign name?”

“Half-Russian,” they confirmed.

“Russian?” Kuroo sounded impressed. He peeked his head up over the bush, brushing Kenma off when they went to stop him. “Wow,” he remarked. “he certainly looks it.”

“Mm.”

In their hiding spot, they were impossibly close. Kenma tried to avoid looking at Kuroo head on, their hand picking on the grass underneath them. Despite sharing the bed the night before, this felt so much more intimate.

“Kenma,” Kuroo began, startling the silence around them. “When I thought that you – that you –”

Kenma shut their eyes tightly. Kuroo had his serious voice on, that he was going to bring up something that he had been thinking about for a long time.

“– were gone, it made me think about somethings. Well, I had already begun to suspect it, but this really confirmed it for me, wow, I guess all it took was some forced separation, huh –”

Kuroo was rambling. Whatever he had to say must be important, if this was how he was reacting.

“– anyway, what I’m trying to say is –”

“Kenma?” a voice interrupted whatever he was about to say. Kenma opened their eyes in relief, important conversation diverted.

“Yes!” they answered too loudly, standing up to find the owner of the voice. Kuroo stopped his speech, looking up at Kenma with a frustration in his eyes. Kenma felt slightly guilty about their eagerness to avoid the conversation, until they found Nakamura’s head poking above the leaves around them.

“Nakamura?” they called out.

“Yes! What are you doing in a bush?” she didn’t wait for a reply before continuing, “Akaashi sent me to find you. Is Kuroo there with you? Oikawa and Iwaizumi have arrived back. We’re having a meeting soon about what we’re going to do.”

The captains were back. That meant they would decided whether Kuroo and Bokuto were allowed to stay. Shit.

“Thanks, Nakamura,” they replied to an already turned head.

Kuroo joined them to stand up. “No matter what happens, we really need a conversation about what I wanted to tell you.”

Kenma avoided his knowing gaze. “We need to go, Kuro,” they muttered instead.

Kuroo sighed, body language showing that he was feeling reproachful. “Yeah.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kenma isnt out to anyone yet, so thats why people refer to them with he/him pronouns still. if i made any mistakes pls let me know!  
> thanku for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> bokuto: has an injury making him semi delusional and pale and sweaty  
> akaashi: wow. so attractive. im literally going to risk my entire life for him-
> 
> ahh u made it to the end!! kudos + comments would be greatly appreciated but no pressure!!  
> if there are any mistakes pls lmk because i am literally awful at finding them in my own work


End file.
